Vuil Bloed
by The Karnstein
Summary: A detective is wounded after saving the Queen at the funeral of Princess Diana. After enduring this career ending wound, she must find work elsewhere. But she never expected what this new occupation would lead to.
1. Prologue

**Vuil Bloed**

Prologue

_Bloody Hell... what is that?_

It was the smell of the place: that terrible and recognizable odor. As if someone had used every bottle of air freshener and hand sanitizer in the world and emptied them into every hallway in a desperate attempt to overpower the smell of death and urine. Then the food: that cheap garbage that even the dogs wouldn't eat. The only good thing to come out of a fridge in this place was a bloody Popsicle, and even then it just tasted like frozen Kool Aid. And then there were those constant "beeps" and other annoying sounds. Machines all around, ticking and clicking with every beat of her heart. Sleep was going to be impossible tonight.

_...Oh do I ever hate hospitals..._

It was a gun wound to the back. A dirty bastard blew a hole right through her left kidney and at least five ribs. And God _damn_ did it hurt. It had happened so quickly that she didn't realize it at first. She saw the man take aim, and even though she knew the bullet was coming, the shock hadn't kicked in until ten to fifteen seconds after the bullet struck her. Then _excruciating_ pain burst throughout her entire body. She remembered screaming until her lungs gave out, she remembered digging her nails into a man's hand only to shove and slap at him until he finally backed away.

_Get away from me! Don't touch the wound! Don't touch my blood! Get away from me!_

She tried to remember other voices, and other people. She tried to remember what had happened after she was gunned down. Unfortunately nothing was coming to mind other than the familiar sound of ambulance sirens and screaming civilians. Then there was that noisy, shaky ride to the hospital: so many people talking all at once over the blaring sirens and screeching tires. Yet apart from those sounds, she could not remember just how she got to this room. How long had it been? Was she here for a few hours, or had it been days?

_Beep... beep... beep... more beeping... I hate this machine... I hate hospitals..._

She tried to move but even the slightest movement caused her excruciating pain. Her eyes watered for a moment before she relaxed against the hospital bed, waiting for the pain to fade away.

_...Christ I could use a cigarette... _

"Holly..."

A familiar voice. Her eyes slipped open but her vision was blurred. It took a moment for them to focus completely, but even before then, she had already recognized the dark face of the man standing over her.

_Abrahem..._

His voice was strained. It sounded as though he had been crying and was struggling to hold back more sobs. He took her small hand into his and kneeled down at her bedside.

"...You are all over the news." he whispered to her. His deep South African accent never failed to put her at ease, but his words caused her eyes to widen. "They keep..." he choked for a moment, but then continued. "...they keep showing you... saving the queen."

She was too tired to speak. Her eyes stared back into his as he spoke before they faded out of focus.

_The Queen... _

Yes, it was coming back to her now. She had attended the public funeral of the late Princess Diana, along with the other officers. She had made her way through the crowd, which was growing far more hostile with every passing minute. And then it struck her: that cold, stressful feeling within the pit of her stomach, warning her, screaming at her that something horrible was about to happen.

Her behavior was considered suspicious and unprofessional, but she found herself shoving her way through the crowd, making her way towards the Queen. And just as she reached her…

"When I saw you there…" Abrahem's voice returned her to the present. "When I saw you take that bullet for her, I thought that you had…" his voice broke, and she watched him lower his head onto her hand. She felt his tears on her skin and his lips kissing her fingers. He did not finish his sentence, and instead had moved on to a new one.

"She is talking about you. She is, Holly. It is all over the news," he whispered. "And there are even rumors that you might be knighted…"

It struck her then. Knighted… it was the highest honor anybody in Great Britain could possibly achieve. With it came a great deal of respect. And by saving the life of the Queen, perhaps she could…

…_No. That isn't right. You don't save a woman's life and then take advantage of her gratitude. _

She took a very deep breath and then released a heavy sigh. Abrahem's words were supposed to bring her comfort, but now the horrible reality was beginning to dawn on her. If this wound was as bad as she thought, it was certainly career ending. She would no longer work on the field as a detective. Despite her age, her endurance had always been exceptional. Now she was injured… now those days were over…

"No, no, don't cry, Holly…" she felt Abrahem lean towards the bed. His long arms reached out to embrace her and his head leaned against hers. Tears weld up within her large eyes and poured down her pale face, and Abrahem took the liberty of wiping them away.

"Do not cry. Things will be different now, but you are alive. In a week, you'll come home to our beautiful daughters, and we will take care of you." He turned his head slightly and kissed her on her cheek. "You will get back on your feet again soon enough…"

…_But how soon will that be…? What am I going to do…?_

"Abrahem…" her voice was dry and low. He moved back just to get a better look at her face, awaiting her next words. "…Please tell me you have a bloody cigarette…"


	2. Chapter 1

**Vuil Bloed**

Chapter One

It had been two weeks after the attempt on the Queen's life, but already the hype surrounding the detective who took a bullet for her had died away. It would seem that the people's love for their deceased princess outweighed any loyalty towards the queen and those willing to give their lives for her.

Rumors of her upcoming knighthood ended up being just that: rumors. She was offered by the Queen herself, but after much deliberation, Holly had declined it. Despite the respect and legacy this honor would have brought her, Holly was far more devastated that she could not continue her work as a detective. Working in the field, leading the investigation, bringing the scum of England to justice... sure it was a dirty job. Sure she had witnessed terrible things, but it was still her life.

Knighthood couldn't replace the thirty years of passion and excitement. It couldn't make her forget her triumphs and her failures. All of that was gone now.

"…You have saved my life, Mrs. Chekandino," the Queen had told her upon Holly's visit to the castle. "I am your queen, but I have never met you. You have no idea who I am. To take a bullet for a complete stranger is truly commendable, but I cannot let you leave here without expressing my sincerest gratitude."

It was noon at Buckingham Palace. The sun shined through the window of a small, elegant chamber that beheld the Queen and her wounded savior. The aging women donned black clothing, with the Queen in a knee-length dress and Holly in a formal shirt and dress-pants. Because of her condition, Holly had been in a wheelchair at that time. The injury had made walking unbearable, and the doctors told her she might never be able to walk the same way ever again.

"I don't need anything from you, Your Majesty." Holly answered, her voice soft and uncharacteristically humble. "I was doing my job and I refuse to take advantage of your gratitude."

"The Queen of England is in your debt, Mrs. Chekandino," was the reply. "If you do not except the knighthood, I will not force you into this, however…"

Holly watched as the Queen stepped away from her. She moved across the elegant room to a desk. When she returned, there was a folder in her hands. She opened it up and thumbed her way through many papers before stopping on one particular file.

"…Before you arrived, I took the liberty of going through your records," her eyes lifted from the page and glanced back at the woman in the wheelchair. "I couldn't help but notice something quite troubling within your medical records."

Holly sighed and closed her eyes. She should have expected this. "…_Troubling_ is a very mild understatement, Your Majesty."

The Queen lowered her head, her eyes fixed on the paper. "…Am I to believe that your family is in this same mess as well?"

Holly nodded, but said nothing. This was not an easy fact for her to face. The Queen seemed to realize this almost instantly.

"To repay you for your services, I would like to cover your family's health insurance." The Queen's words struck Holly like a kick to the stomach. She didn't have time to register what she was saying when the Queen continued. "All of your medication, all of your finances for you, your husband, and your children are to be covered by the Royal Family. We will give you our best physicians. We will make sure that this condition does not… _advance_."

It felt as though hours had passed. Holly stared at this woman before her with her eyes large and her mouth wide open. She remembered when she had first married Abrahem a year after Apartheid had ended. Her British parents were not ecstatic about the idea of their daughter marrying a black man, and after the marriage they had never spoke again. She remembered many years after the marriage that her parents had decided to cut all communications with her after she told them of this new situation she was in. Her own family, who could have donated at least a fraction of their wealth into helping her, had turned her away.

But this woman, the Queen of England herself, was willing to cover everything for her. And her family.

"There is no cure, I'm sure you know this…" The Queen added quietly. "My physicians will help you to the best of their abilities, but there is no way to ever go back…"

"…I…" Holly's voice was breaking. She was not one to cry with joy, but this sensation was so overwhelming that forming words was becoming a hassle. "…I am no fool, Your Majesty. I know we will never be cured. But… we simply want to live. We want to be like everybody else…"

"So you except my offer?"

The Queen approached the wheelchair. Her small hand moved towards the lady before her. And after a long moment of stillness and silence, Holly's hand rose to meet hers.

"…Thank you, Your Majesty." She whispered, trying her damndest to keep her voice from quivering. "…Thank you, so much…"


	3. Chapter 2

**Vuil Bloed**

Chapter Two

_"I feel like... everyone else in this country today. Utterly devastated. Our thoughts and prayers are with Princess Diana's family, in particular her two sons, the two boys. Our heart goes out to them..."_

Tributes to the late Princess of Wales had been playing on the radio all day. Integra Hellsing had the rotten luck of catching Prime Minister Tony Blair's in the evening, on a car ride to a murder scene. This task was miserable in and of itself, but riding to the scene of a crime with the constant reminder of Diana's death seemed to intensify the air of depression. With the exception of the radio and the raindrops smacking against the car, everything had been quiet. Not a word was exchanged between Integra and Walter. The entire ordeal, with Diana's death and the attempt on the Queen's life, was completely and utterly exhausting.

_"We are today a nation, in Britain, in a state of shock, in mourning, in grief that is so deeply painful for us. She was a wonderful and a warm human being, that her own life was often sadly touched by tragedy. She touched the lives of so many others in Britain and throughout the world with joy and with comfort."_

With a sigh, Integra's hands moved to her ascot to adjust it. The cross shimmered as the rays of a streetlight passed into the car's window. Just as quickly as it came, it was gone, but soon replaced with another beam of light. Walter was driving unusually fast in such weather. Perhaps the broadcast was bothering him as well.

_"How many times shall we remember her in how many different ways? With the sick, the dying, with children, with the needy? When with just a look, or a gesture that spoke so much more than words, she would reveal to all of us the depth of her compassion and her humanity."_

Compassion and humanity, two beautiful words or two terrible illusions in Integra's line of work. The Hellsing Organization survived by being kept a secret, and as such, Integra avoided attending many social gatherings and get-togethers arranged by the royal family. Invitations were sent out, and declining RSVP letters were always sent back. It was difficult to find the time to dress up and sip champange with the other knights when the reanimated corpses of a slaughtered family to dispose of. But the one gathering she agreed to attend was the funeral of Princess Diana. Her stay was very brief, but she owed it to the royal family and the other knights of England to make an appearance. It was one of the very few occassions where the death of a complete stranger managed to get to her.

Integra couldn't help but feel some regret that she hadn't met Diana at least once. If only because those very characteristics that she embodied: compassion and humanity, were so hard to come by in this business.

_"I am sure we can only guess how difficult things were for her from time to time. But people everywhere, not just here in Britain, but everywhere, kept faith with Princess Diana. They liked her, they loved her, they regarded her as one of the people. She was the People's Princess... and that is how she will stay, how she will remain in our hearts and our memories. Forever". _

As the Prime Minister finished his last sentence, the car rolled to a stop. Integra glanced out of the window and saw a large abandoned home before her. Police cars surrounded the premise with their red and blue lights flashing and blinking. Walter exited the vehicle and opened an umbrella before he opened her door.

"Sir Integra," he said, offering his hand to her. "If I may,"

Integra nodded to him and took his hand. She stepped out of the car and underneath the umbrella. It was beginning to rain harder now, but thankfully the crime scene occurred within the house. At least they wouldn't have to wander about in the storm and return home with pneumonia. The two walked side by side, passing by the police cars and making their way up the porch steps and into the house.

The first sensation to hit them was the terrible smell within the home. Whatever had been killed was left here for days, perhaps weeks. Because the home was vacant, the roof was leaking and there was no electricity. Policemen wandered the estate with flashlights and certain areas of the home were taped off due to it's poor and dangerous conditions. Already the floorboards in the living room had broken and almost sent one officer to his death. The bathroom walls and floors were completely rotted, causing the bath tub to fall through the floor and into the basement. The basement itself was completely flooded, causing rodents to abandoned their nests and scurry about the house. Once or twice Integra had to kick at a rat that came too close for comfort, while the policemen took the liberty of stomping on them or hitting them with their night sticks.

"The undead have grown desperate if this is their ideal resting place," Integra mused. "Undoubtably newborn, and the sire in question was probably newly reanimated himself."

"What are you going on about over there?" a gruff voice came from the side. Integra and Walter turned to see an older policeman approaching them with a flashlight. "You two had better be with the police force."

"On the contrary," Integra began, "We were sent here to thoroughly examine the crime scene, should anything prove to be of paranormal origins. Should our work prove to be satisfactory, we will be taking over this investigation."

The officer snorted. "Paranormal? This place may look like a haunted house, but aren't you a little old to be believing in ghosts?"

"Walter." Integra needn't say anything further. Walter reached into a briefcase and offered the officer a folder. Within it were her credentials, explaining her presence here and the purpose in which the Hellsing Organization served.

The man looked over it all, paused, made a face, then read it over again. On his third try, he looked back up at Integra. Although her eyes showed all seriousness, her face held a hint of amusement. It was always interesting to see a person's first reaction to her credentials. The police officer on the other hand, looked far from amused.

"Chekandino!" he called over his shoulder. "You might want to look at this!"

"What is it?" A woman's voice shouted from the other room.

"These people showed up!" was the response, and Integra rose her eyebrow at the title bestowed upon she and Walter. _These people?_ The ignorant fellow truly had no idea just how vital they were to England. "You should probably talk to them!"

There was a moment of silence, and then footsteps approached them, followed by a strange knocking sound on the floorboards. Integra and Walter turned their attention towards the hallway across from them and saw "Chekandino" approaching them. It took Integra a moment before she could recognize the woman, but suddenly the strange name and the lady's face clicked with her. The woman before her was much older than Integra: wrinkles were forming around the woman's mouth and eyes, and though her long hair was light blonde, Integra noticed several whisps of graying curls. She wore a pair of half-moon spectacles on her face which almost enhanced her aging appearance. A black raincoat was thrown around her shoulders and she also wore a brown turtleneck and a black pair of pants. In her hand was a walking cane, and Integra noticed how moving her left leg seemed to cause her great discomfort.

"_Holly_ Chekandino?" Integra asked as the woman moved towards her.

"_Dr. _Chekandino." Holly corrected as she stood across from the two.

"Indeed," Integra nodded. "You were the lady who saved Her Majesty. I was there when it happened. I am surprised you can even walk after that."

"I have a good doctor," was the reply. It was curt, though not entirely disrespectful. Obviously whatever the woman was working on in the other room was of greater importance. Holly turned her head back towards the officer. "So what's the problem?"

"Here, you might want to look this over." was the response as he handed Integra's credentials over to Holly.

"This had better be important," Holly muttered. "That room's a bloody mess and I'd prefer it if we moved the remains to my lab as soon as possible." that being said, she adjusted her glasses and began to scan over the credentials. Unlike the officer, Holly's eyes stopped halfway before her eyes lifted up to stare back at Integra. "Is this for real?"

"Very much so." was Integra's reply.

Then something unexpected happened. In a most unprofessional fashion, Holly threw Integra's credentials on the floor, at the woman's feet. While Integra didn't react to this display, she was certainly appalled by the action.

"I don't know what game you are playing at," Holly did not raise her voice, but her tone was most certainly unfriendly, "but I have a dead child in the other room. Officer Brom is going to have to deliver terrible news to the girl's family once she is identified, and being that I am the head of Forensics now since my detective career is over, I'm the one who has to make that identification possible. That is going to be hard with you wasting my time with this nonsense."

For a moment the two women stared back at each other. All amusement had left Integra's face. Keeping herself restrained, she pulled a cigar from her coat pocket. Walter lit the cigar, and she noticed the utter annoyance in his entire form. Clearly the butler did not appreciate such disrespect towards his lady. So Integra spoke again.

"Perhaps I should take the time to introduce myself. It was rude not to do so before," was her response, her tone just as unfriendly as Holly's. "I am Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing of the Hellsing Organization. This means that the Queen, the one you rescued, knighted me and fully supports my Organization." Integra took a step closer. "That being said, how _dare_ you even question my credentials-"

"Sir Hellsing," Holly snapped, taking a step towards the knight. "I will question your bloody credentials when I see the word _vampire_ in them. That being said," though it was uncomfortable, Holly managed to bring herself to her full height. "I am thirty-years older than you, old enough to be your mother, so do not presume to talk down to me."

There was another long, uncomfortable silence. It looked as though both women were a breath away from slapping each other, as neither one were prepared to back down. Integra inhaled deeply, then blew the smoke from her cigar off to the side.

"We are not here to waste your time." she said, "Though I would appreciate it if you did not waste ours. Our work here is every bit as serious and complicated as yours. When we were told there was a possibility that this could be a vampire-related attack, we came. May we please view the remains?"

Holly was silent. She glanced from Integra to Walter, then back to Integra again. After a moment, she turned away and began to limp back towards the room. While she did not invite the two to follow her, she found it useless to deny them access. If they truly were from some top secret vampire-hunting organization, they would have ignored her and viewed the body anyways. When she heard their footsteps following behind her, Holly rolled her eyes.

_Bloody vampire hunters... utter nonsense._

Holly turned the cornor and entered a large room. Two other members of her forensics team were waiting for her, taking pictures of the body (or what was left of it) and doing a splatter analysis on the walls. The one taking the pictures offered Holly a pair of white rubber gloves, and once they were on, she painfully crouched down onto the ground beside the remains. Integra and Walter stood at the doorway, peering in at the mayham before them, and the smell from the living room was nothing in comparison to the smell that eminated from this room.

The room was badly damaged, with the concrete floor cracked and broken, resembling a small crater. Within the center of the "crater" was the broken, decomposing skeleton of a young girl. If the remains hadn't been wearing a bloodstained, faded sundress, Integra would have never been able to tell the gender of the victim. Something had smashed her into the ground so hard that pieces of her dress, skin, hair, and bones were forced into the cracks in the floor. Blood pooled around the body, her back and neck were snapped. When Holly observed the girl's hands, she noticed that some finger nails were torn out while others were broken off. Before she could inquire as to why, she found the answer.

"Look at these," the blood analyst moved towards Holly with a plastic bag. Within were three full fingernails and two that had been broken. "Found them in the wall, by the door." he said, pointing over to where Integra and Walter were standing. "She didn't want to go in, but he was taking her anyways."

Holly shook her head continued to observe the body. "The chest, ribs, and spine were all crushed. But the only thing that could have done this sort of damage would be if a boulder, or a couple of cynder blocks, had been lifted up and dropped onto her body over and over again." she adjusted her glasses and kept observing. "The internal organs have all been crushed... but there is no damage done to the legs, arms, head, or pelvis." she lifted up the girl's dress. Her gloved hand moved onto the girl's pelvis and after scanning the fluids surrounding that region, she turned her head towards the other member of her team. "Did you take a sample of these fluids?"

"Yes Dr. Che...Che-kan..."

"_Che-kan-di-no_," Holly snapped, "It means _hot and spicy_. But right now I'm not interested in my name, I'm interested in whether or not there's evidence of foul play before or after the murder. So what did you find?"

Her patience was wearing thin, and this was doing nothing for the man's nerves. "Indeed, ma'am-_ doctor! _Yes... well..." he moved towards her and pointed at the fluid. "Well, it all looks to be just blood, either from bleeding to death or... menstruation..." his face went beat red, prompting a very odd look from Holly. It honestly surprised her how uncomfortable men were to even say the word. "B-But I didn't find any traces of semen or saliva in this region, which leads me to believe that there was no foul play involved."

Holly groaned and painfully pushed herself up onto her feet. "Just splendid. Which means we don't have his bloody DNA." she looked towards the blood analyst. "Are there traces of skin under the girl's nails?"

"None in this bag, no." was the reply. "There may be some under the nails still attached to her. But we should perform that test when we get the remains back to the lab."

"Indeed..." Holly muttered. "God... I can't even begin to tell you what the murder weapon could have been. As I said before, the damage done to her could have only been done with a boulder or a couple cynder blocks..." she pointed to the ankles and the arms on the body. "But there's no damage done to the ankles and wrists, so restraints obviously weren't used to keep her in place. But why would she just _lay there_ and let this happen?"

Holly sighed. She reached into a pocket on her raincoat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She slipped one out and after some trouble with the lighter managed to light it up. She stared down at the body and grew very quiet. The size of the bones indicated that the female was perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old. Still just a child. There was most definitely a place saved in Hell for the bastard responsible for this.

_If there even is a Hell._

"This is going to be a bastard to get back to the lab." she muttered, then began to bark orders. "Contact the lab, we need the entire team up here to remove the remains from this room. Remove the concrete if you have to, to get all the parts out. If it's too much work for the team, hire a carpenter. We'll work on identifying the corpse once we're back in the lab." as she turned around to leave, she remembered that Integra and Walter were still present. Perhaps they were of some importance. If they had been a fraud, they would have left as soon as they saw that body.

She still wasn't all that convinced, though. They could have just been a couple of weirdos who got hot at the sight of death for all she knew.

"So," she said, glancing back at the both of them. "Anything _paranormal_ about this situation?"

She was mocking them. It was beginning to grate on both of their nerves, especially when, despite the brutality of the child's murder, there was nothing here to prove that a vampire was present. The blood was not drained. The body, though crushed, was still in one piece. And of course, the girl hadn't become a ghoul, or was changed into a vampire. But before Integra could open her mouth to comment, Officer Brom came rushing into the room.

"Holly!" he gasped, then touched her arm. "We found another one."

Holly's eyes widened. _Another body? "_Show me!"

The officer nodded and turned around. Holly followed after him, leaving her team to make the proper arrangements for the body. Integra and Walter followed after the two, moving throughout the house until they reached a stairwell. Officer Brom was assisting Holly up the stairs, and looked down at the two Hellsing members.

"If you're coming up, be careful!" he called down to them. "The steps are pretty weak, wouldn't want you to fall."

It took a few long moments for the entire party to move up the creaking stairway. Once or twice Integra could have sworn she heard a board crack. If this was the way she was going to die, she would feel utterly insulted. To survive countless vampire attacks only to die from falling down the stairs. She was putting all of her faith into Walter and hoped if the worst occurred, his wires would save the day. They made it to the third story of the house, which appeared to be a very small, humble bedroom. There was a little bed, a desk with a candle on it, a few books here and there, and a ladder that led up to what Holly assumed was the attic. And the steps on the ladder were covered in blood.

Officer Brom pointed his flashlight up to the attic, and a second beam of light shined back down on him. "What is it up there?"

"We've got another girl. This one has an ID on her and everything." the officer from above said. He held a wallet in his hand and was shining the light on the ID. "...Marie Shelly Winston."

"Marie?"

Holly's hand slapped over her mouth and all eyes fell on her. The officer in the attic glanced back down at the woman. "You know her, Holly?"

In her horror, Holly dropped the walking cane and pressed herself against the latter. Officer Brom moved to her side, not stopping her from climbing the ladder, but making damn sure that she didn't fall down. Holly stopped once half of her body was in the attic, and her response to this situation was only worse. "Oh my bleeding _Christ_," Holly cursed.

"How do you know her, Holly?" Officer Brom asked.

"...This is one of Lili's best friends." was her reply.

"Lili? Your daughter?" Brom gasped. "Oh God, Holly. I'm sorry."

Holly shook her head and looked to the officer beside her. "Cause of death... crushed. Except this times her arms and upper torso are damaged." she lowered her head into her palm and released a very exhausted sigh. The officer beside her placed his hand on her back and glanced back down to Brom.

"Get her out of here, Brom. She doesn't need to be here." he said, only to be punched in the arm by the doctor herself. "Ah! Hey!"

"Like Hell I don't! This is a bloody crime scene! I will see through to this until the end!" Holly snapped.

"If I may..."

Officer Brom turned his attention from Holly to Integra. Clearly the woman had it with being ignored. She moved towards the ladder, but did not proceed to climb it.

"Dr. Chekandino, if you please." Integra's voice, though serious, held a more gentle tone. While her sympathies were with the doctor, she was more concerned with keeping her at a level that didn't resort to irratic behavior. People in grief were capable of really anything.

Holly glared, but did not linger for a moment longer. As insulting as it seemed to have a "vampire hunter" view the corpse of her daughter's close friend, what was the worst that could happen if this seemingly sensible woman just _looked _at the body? Slowly but surely, the injured woman moved down the ladder and stood beside Brom. Integra nodded to her, then proceeded up the later. She was there for a few long moments, making no comment on the situation, until...

"Walter," she called down to him. "Call the Organization. Contact Alucard and our best occult scholars. We have a monster on the loose."


End file.
